Category Archives: SHORT STORIES


It was a stormy twilight but the sky appeared like night.It was pitch black, nothing in it as I took a peek from my hood. The lamp street lights appeared like souls flamed up and lined on both sides to give me a grand entrance. Only the sound of the falling rain and my squeaking boots can be heard along the way.

I paused. Then I saw it.

Seated quietly at the end of the aisle, almost invisible. Its felt-like fur matted when the rain damped its coat. Its eyes all flared up, like two small burning emeralds, waiting for me, making its mumbling sounds as it waves its tail in a sluggish manner. My vision is blurred. I can’t see its face, if its smiling or grinning.
What will happen when I reached it?

Will it bite and hurt me or just run away?



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Heart is beating loud,

Sweat dripping on the ground.

These are the only sounds that I could hear, overpowering Debussy’s Claire de Lune on the background – that bit of synthetic heaven cannot save me from the hell that my mind has been creating. My eyes are useless, for I chose to be blind. They were covered by fabrics of lies, my fantasy, my vice. I felt so weak and vulnerable, trusting only my sense of smell to tell whether he’s around. It’s bringing me thrill, and fear, and excitement – the sensation brings chill all over and makes my body tremble.

There it is…the fragrance that I’ve been waiting for and yet, wishing to never inhale again. It was the reason why I am here.

I was casted in a spell.

I was hypnotized.

He, became my drug.

The scent grew stronger and my skin started to bathe me more of my sweat.

Two pheromones wafting in the room, I wonder if I am the only fool.

I felt his fingertips landed on my right thigh, it made my heart beat faster and my lungs breathe deeper. His touch reverberated all over my body, it almost made me want to squirm.

I felt the first whip, and let out a moan. I felt the temperature on where it struck, changing from cold to hot. As he continued on lashing, my skin became numb and my mind was completely blank, for I am completely enthralled with his redolence. I know that I could be saved, but I don’t want to, and chose to be in here. No words could save me anymore.

He threw away the whip and bent over me, spreading my legs wide to expose the entire art of me, which he molded only for him. I felt him uniting with me, synching his rhythm and pace with my body. Hands caressing anywhere it reaches, breaths exchanging in deep gasps, lips showering each other’s skin.

Fear was gone.

It was heaven.

And now I could clearly hear Debussy’s music on the background.

Still soaked in sweat and hair was mussed, he looked at me from above and smiled.

“I love you,” I said. He paused, stood up and left.

It was the safe word after all.



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“Everything is just an illusion,” he said, smiling at me. The wind on a 16-story building was cold and strong that it almost blew me off my feet. He leaned against the railing and looked at the people below. I followed.
None of them could notice us and take even a short glance.
“They don’t care about the people around them, including us. Because we are not part of their world. They go on with their lives thinking that each day is different and new but the truth is, they just go around in circles. They are bound to do certain things, and discard those that they are not made for.”
I stared at him and he returned my gaze.
“You know what? I want to be a bird. I believe I can do it. If I won’t try to fly then I wouldn’t know, right?”
He stood on the railing, tiptoed. He closed his eyes and spread his arms.
He let the wind blew him away, and fell head first.
Now, people took notice of him. He has become a part of their illusion, something that is hard to forget. Everyone below paused. Mouths were open but there was no sound. Eyes stare blank, like machines that hang from a glitch.
I wish he really became a bird in his illusion.
But in mine, he was just a rotten egg who thought he became a chick.
An now his yolk is spilling on the streets.


featured photo: Artwork by Asano Inio


For he have read the books that a few had laid their eyes on to, nobody could fathom the words he uttered nor the things he wrote. They accused him of being insane, but the truth is they lack enlightenment. Ah, who would have thought that this knowledge hoisted from the depths of the archaic would cause his destruction? He laughed, for he alone knows it well but his bravery caused his fall.



featured image source: Jonathon Fowler

Lonely Slumber

Eyes were calm like those of the demised, lips were like blooming rosebuds in the spring, skin was pallid but her cheeks were blushing, and her hair like waves of the ocean that sways with the wind.

The doll-like figure was there, sitting beside him and taking a lonely slumber, her soul was far away from reality and into the realm of her fantasy that no one ever knows. He looked at her maiden fingers – fragile hands clasped together, resting on her lap.

He was tempted to wake her up. Slowly, he reached out his fingertips and stroked her hand.

She felt the cold fingertips touched her hand. The sensation made her skin shiver as it ran through her body, awakening her senses.

At last, she slowly opened her eyes, eyelashes fluttered, revealing those crystal eyes that only he could capture.

That morning was not like any other of her mornings. Her eyes didn’t see the bright sun, but she found something brighter than that.

That day, she found the star that will only shine for her.


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The Kiss

He kissed me on the forehead.

It wasn’t a kiss to say “Goodbye, I love you”, but “I’m sorry, I thought I love you”.

He looked me in the eye as tears flowed carelessly down my cheeks. All I could see was remorse in him as he wiped away my tears and tried to hush me.

“No, don’t touch me,” I said as I dodged his hands that kept on reaching out for my cheeks. I tried to laugh, acted as if it’s just fine, as if it’s easy to chug down his hundreds of I’m sorry’s after taking in the hundreds of I love you’s – like finishing a whole jar of honey and gnawing at a whole bitter melon right after.

“Will you forgive me?” he asked.
“Do you think I could?” I replied.

The questions were left unanswered.



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It was morning…but the morning seemed to be indifferent from the night.

The fog that blanketed the earth during the dark was wiped by the strong wind and revealed clustered bodies on the ground. Blood were dried cold, eyes wide open, ready to be fed on by the hungry scavengers.
There she was lying, her body dismembered by her fall from the height that caused her demise. Flies dancing over her body and cockroaches migrated and bred in her mouth. Her white and cloudy eyes will blink or squint no more, but her mind still works like days before.
The wind brought the magic she was waiting for, a magic that seemed to be sent by a fairy. This magic touched the tip of her nose and revived her senses…
She started to breathe again.



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